


backdoor, backdoor

by Trigonometrical



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Creampie, Dirty Talk, F/M, Other, Pregnancy Kink, Quickies, Reader-Insert, Thanksgiving, and a dash of, because why the fuck not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trigonometrical/pseuds/Trigonometrical
Summary: "Brian," you say again, and you don't know—you don't know what you're begging for: for him to get on with it, or for him to turn this car onto the off-ramp that leads to something that'll definitely take longer than you can explain to your family downstairs.or, what if you take that off-ramp?
Relationships: Brian David Gilbert/Reader
Kudos: 26
Collections: Polygon Remix Challenge April 2020





	backdoor, backdoor

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [upstairs, upstairs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21602239) by Anonymous. 

> Sorry for choosing this one—except I'm absolutely 100% not sorry at all. Some recognizable lines pulled from the original fic, because they were already perfect and why mess with perfection? <3

_"Bet I could," Brian murmurs, and leans down to press a kiss to the dimples at the base of your spine. His thumb slips in, easy-as-you-please, and you swallow a groan into the bend of your elbow. "Bet you'd let me. Wouldn't you."_

_"Brian," you say again, and you don't know—you don't know what you're begging for: for him to get on with it, or for him to turn this car onto the off-ramp that leads to something that'll definitely take longer than you can explain to your family downstairs. It feels out of your hands, a little, and the pretense of helplessness makes something deep in your stomach shiver with want._

—upstairs, upstairs

\---

or, what if you took that off-ramp?

\---

“You’d take it _so _well, wouldn’t you,” Brian says, pulling away, and you hold your breath as you feel him draw to his knees behind you. _Gorgeous_, he breathes out. You can’t stop the whine that tears out of your throat, soft but insistent as his thumb pulls back to circle your hole.

It’s—downstairs, they’re gonna _know. _Maybe not what you’re doing exactly, but certainly _something_. Certainly enough to be incriminating.

Then again, maybe they _already _know, even if you’re quick, so at this point—

“I’d let you,” you mumble, exactly what he wants to hear, and his grin is nasty and perfect against the small of your back. “We’re—c’mon, we gotta hurry.”

“Aw, you don’t want me to stretch you open nice and slow? Just how you like it?”

“Brian,” you bite out, and that third time you utter his name must complete the magic spell. He chuckles and pats at your thigh with his free hand.

“Okay, okay,” he says, soothing, rubbing at your leg. “I get it, baby, I’m gonna—”

The fact that Brian packed _lube _to bring to your _parents’ house_ for _Thanksgiving _is not lost on you, you’re just cataloging it for later. Because now—now, you’re on all fours in your childhood bedroom, your forehead pressed to your arms, Brian snug up behind you working two slick fingers inside. You don’t do this often because Brian can be a vicious, nasty top when you let him have your ass, but when you do it’s _so _worth it, his quick fingers plying you open, his knobby knuckles budging against where you’re warm and taking him in.

He’s not achingly slow, this time, but he’s not _quick _either. You’ve been gone for countless minutes already, and surely downstairs they _know_, but Brian presses reassuring kisses to your cheeks, the dip where your ass meets your thigh, like if he butters you up enough you’ll forget all about the rest of it.

(He’s right, damn him.)

“Come on,” you grit out, when Brian slowly circles a third fingertip around your hole like you have all the time in the world. “God dammit, just—”

“First you didn’t want me to, now you’re begging like a slut for it,” Brian says, pulling _all _his fingers away, what the _fuck_. “Make up your mind, baby.”

“Stop being—smarmy,” you whisper, you need to be _quiet_, “and put your cock in me already.”

“Okay,” Brian says simply, and it’s the tone, _that _tone, so you know it’s coming—but it still shocks a cry out of you when he works the thick head of his cock inside.

“Shh,” he soothes, petting at your hair, down the nape of your neck. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.” Brian bottoms out, and it’s _quick_, what he’s doing to you, the attention he’s paying your body, the blunt press as his belt buckle digs into your thigh.

His hands circle your waist, _drag _your body back onto his cock, and it’s only through biting your forearm that you don’t yelp again. “Just when they’ve started to like me too,” Brian adds in a harsh whisper, barely audible over the _slap slap slap _of your bodies. “They won’t even give me a free pass this time.”

You tilt your head enough for your questioning noise to escape the safety of your arm, and Brian laughs high and nasty as he turns your head by the jaw, forcing you to muffle yourself again. “Do you know,” he starts, and you can _hear_ the smile in his voice, damn him, “how many times I’ve been asked today if we’re gonna have kids?”

It’s a good thing his hand’s keeping you there, his fingers _rough _on your face—not rough enough to bruise but enough to make you feel it shooting through your jaw—because you gasp and have to bite down, Brian’s giggle punctuated with the slam of his hips. Fuck, you don’t, you don’t even _want_, but you do like the thrill of it. The tease. Brian fucking with you because he knows it gets you wetter than anything to think about his big, broad body holding you down, fucking you hard, bending your body to his and _making _you—

“Can’t even make it happen like this,” he says, his voice dripping with sadness even as his fingers slip around to press against your clit. The dual sensation makes you rock between him, forward into his hand, backward onto his dick, strung out and fucked out and making a mess of your childhood bedsheets where you’re snotting and tearing all over them. “You’re gonna walk out with ratty hair and fucked-out eyes, and they won’t even know that we did it in the wrong hole.”

“Not—wrong,” you manage as his hand speeds up on your clit, and that shocks a real, earnest laugh from Brian’s throat.

“No,” Brian agrees warmly, the warmest he’s been in what feels like _ages_. “Not wrong at all, sweetheart. Not when you take it so well.”

And then he does you a mercy, does you _several_ mercies, and crooks his wrist to get two fingers inside your hole while his cock keeps pumping in your ass. That’s so much, it’s _too much_, and there’s nothing but the pillow to smother your whines as you fly higher, higher, higher before plummeting back to earth.

Brian comes seconds later, snapping his hips a few more times as he breathes out, shuddering, skidding sideways into his orgasm. His fingers slip away as he grips both hands around your hips, and you wrestle one of your own hands down your body, slide three fingers inside yourself so you don’t go through the aftershocks only stuffed in one hole.

You breathe, deep into your belly, these long, meditative breaths as Brian kisses your shoulder blades, your hairline, your neck, damn him. “That was so good,” he says gently. You whimper when he starts to pull out, but he shushes you with more soft, easy kisses. “You were so good, needed it so bad, huh?”

“Speak for—yourself,” you say, and you drop your body and flop starfished onto the bed. “Would have been just fine if you’d gotten yours and left me dripping.”

_Fuck_, Brian says quickly, and you grin where he can’t see you against the pillow. Serves him right, you think. You’re gonna be dripping anyway, his come slipping sluggishly out of your hole, and you’ll have to take a damn long shower before facing your family downstairs again. _Brian_ can just zip up and go kick your cousins’ asses in charades, make excuses that won’t incriminate the pair of you. But for now, you take his hand and rub over the backs of his knuckles, content under the press of his body and the whisper of his lips against your neck.


End file.
